


E: Electricity

by brokxnharry



Series: Teen Wolf A-Z Challenge (with songs) [5]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Dead Vernon Boyd & Erica Reyes, Hurt Stiles, Kidnapping, Lowkey Sterek, M/M, Tortured Derek, Werewolf Kate Argent, stiles can't talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-23
Updated: 2017-07-23
Packaged: 2018-12-06 02:45:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11591301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brokxnharry/pseuds/brokxnharry
Summary: Kate is back and she wants revenge. She wants Derek and Stiles is in the way.





	E: Electricity

**Author's Note:**

> Song: Even My Dad Does Sometimes - Ed Sheeran

Stiles felt something tugging at his hands, rubbing against the raw skin. He felt his feet barely brushing against something, that wasn't firm enough to hold him, but was dense enough to stain. His eyes were closed, eyelids heavied down by something, and he didn't know when that had happened. The last thing he remembered was being in Derek's car, driving around a cave in the middle of the woods, where a wendigo was supposed to be hiding.

He groaned, his neck aching, as he tried to lift his head away from where it fell against his shoulder, but everything felt heavy, sluggish, like it was drowned in tar, and there was this ringing in his ear, hitting against the back of his head, every time he tried to stir.

" Stiles? Are you awake?" He thought he heard Derek's voice, thought it was echoing in his head. He tried to blink past the prominent darkness, and how narrow his vision seemed to be, like he was staring through a tunnel. But slowly, carefully, Derek's figure began to clear. He was held against a metal door, arms handcuffed, chest bare, blood falling against his body, and Stiles' eyes followed its trace, without really meaning to, looking down to where his feet were barely touching the ground, the front of his shoes now drenched in blood. In Derek's blood.

" Oh God," He tried to get away, push at whatever was holding him there, taunting him with all the blood he could feel clawing at his senses. He could almost taste it, at the back of his throat, and he dry heaved, trying to get it out. But his throat was dry and scratchy and his stomach turned onto itself, giving nothing away, and Stiles just wanted to slip away again. He didn't want to see this. Didn't want to be here.

" Hey, Stiles, stop. It's okay. Listen. I need you to listen to me. Do you remember what happened?" Stiles looked up, looked away, eyes falling onto Derek's, trying to stay there. They were safe. They were familiar. He knew they wouldn't hurt him, would hold him, for as long as he needed them too.

" No," Stiles whined, voice trembling, cracking, breaking, but Derek nodded, looking around, probably searching for a way out, for a release, but Stiles' heart began hitting against his chest, demanding attention, demanding reassurance, because Derek's eyes were no longer there to get lost into, and he became very aware of what was happening. Of how hurt Derek actually was. And how his eyes were sticking together with his own dried blood.

" Stiles, we're **_okay_**. They're going to come for us soon. Just, hold on, yeah? Look at me. Just look at me. Right here."  Derek must have heard the imbalance in his heartbeat, must have choked on the scent of panic, dissolving into everything else. Stiles breathed, or at least, tried to, willing his eyes to take in Derek, who was desperately trying to smile, his own chest forcing its way through a steady breathe, if only to guide Stiles through it.

" How did we get here? How long has it been? I remember us driving to that cave, and then, nothing." Derek's smile faltered, something passing through his eyes, that Stiles wasn't coherent enough to understand.

" It was Kate. She pushed the car out of the road. I barely managed to stop it from flipping. She, uh, was coming at me, but you tried to fight her, which is how you ended up with that head wound. And then, I don't really know, I woke up here. She comes and goes, but I don't know how long it's been, or where she goes."

" Fuck, Kate, again? I thought she was dead." Derek's smile fell away completely, his eyebrows furrowed, as he shuddered, with something Stiles would never know. Would never really understand.

" She's coming." Derek announced, eyes moving away from Stiles, and onto the door that Kate walked through, transformed into some sort of wolf, but not really. Stiles didn't know what she was, but she was smiling deviously between them both, claws bloody, as she twitched her fingers in the air, making a sound that Stiles was certain, he would never be able to shake away.

" Look who finally decided to join us." She was walking towards Stiles, dismissing the groan bubbling through Derek's chest, and how he was hitting against the handcuffs, willing something to break, other than his own heart.

" Yeah, sorry I can't offer you a proper welcome back. A bit tied up here." Stiles moved his hands through the restraints, eyes hard, fearless, despite the panic poking at his heart, reminding him that it was there. It always would be there.

" I didn't really plan on having you here with us, but you, Stiles, you just never know when to quit. You're way over your head, kid, and you just, won't, stop." She had her hands around Stiles' neck, her claws touching where his pulse was, and he could feel Derek's blood, molding into his own, and this time, he couldn't held the chill that went down his spine.

" Kate, you wanted me, not him. You said it yourself, he wasn't part of the plan."

" No, he wasn't. But that was before I knew what you'd do for one another. You know, I thought you wouldn't have a weak point anymore, not after losing all your family the way you did. But I guess there's always something to use against you, huh?"

Stiles was staring at Derek as she cracked him open, pulling at all he held dear to his heart, all he folded away, and kept somewhere safe, somewhere that was far away, unattainable, hidden beneath layers and layers of himself. Derek's face was crumbling in agony, and if Stiles could smell it, he would have suffocated on it, would have clawed his nose right off his face, just to make it stop.

Kate turned away, her free hand falling onto a button that she flicked. Derek's body started convulsing, electricity flooding him, the scent of something burning filling the air. Stiles heard a voice somewhere, heard a mantra echoing in his head.

_Not again, not again, not again._

But Derek had his eyes squeezed shut, lips captured between his teeth, until there was blood, sliding against his skin, falling into the pool of blood that Stiles felt could paint the whole world an angry shade of red. He wouldn't scream out loud though. Wouldn't give her the pleasure, and Stiles, the ache. Stiles wondered if there was roaring inside him. If he'd choke on a scream that wanted out.

" Stop, stop. Kate, fuck, stop. You're hurting him. Stop!" Stiles cried out, legs thrashing around, hands beating against the restraints, he thought they'd cut right through him. His body arched, aching for the proximity, wanting to get to Derek, needing to get out. But she flicked that button again, and before Stiles could take in Derek's suddenly motionless body, he felt both her hands around his neck again, two of her clawed fingers, dancing right in the middle of his throat.

" Do you think, if I bite you right now, without your consent, would you turn into him? Or into me? Or maybe, into **_Paige_**? Another body he'd just have to get rid of. Like all the rest of them."

Derek moved his head, barely, but enough for his eyes to fall onto Stiles, a broken sound that was barely there at all, falling past his lips. And Stiles wanted to cry, because the last time he'd seen someone do that, they'd ended up being taken away, killed instead of being found. And he'd carried that with him, hating himself every single day, for leaving. For living, when they didn't.

" Screw. You." Stiles said, steadying his voice, despite the shakiness he felt everywhere else.

" Wrong answer, Stiles."

It all rushed past him then. He felt something piercing through his throat. Felt like a balloon, with a hole somewhere that no one could see, leaking blood instead of air. He heard a roar, saw beautiful, bright, eyes, turning red. He saw the door breaking around its hinges, Scott and Isaac and Malia and even Peter, spreading around the area. He tried to smile, tried to voice something that would sound like gratitude, like a cheer of victory. But his eyes were heavy and things were moving too fast and he was dizzied by his attempts to keep up. So he blinked, and when his eyes opened again, Derek was in front of him, trying to hold his limp body upright, trying to keep it from collapsing onto the ground that was still glistening with Derek's blood.

He blinked again and he was carried by Scott, and he wanted to push against him, wanted to tell him that he was too heavy, was too big, but then he remembered that Scott was a werewolf now, and he could carry much heavier things, like the crushing weight of disappointment, every time someone he cared for, got hurt.

He didn’t know how long he'd drifted, didn't know if time had passed, or eased its way to a halt, waiting for Stiles to catch up. But it took him a few tries to be able to open his eyes, to see something other than the neon, geometrical, shapes that he saw every time he blinked too hard, closed his eyes for too long. He opened his mouth, tried to will any sounds out, tried to call for someone, but his throat felt like it was set on fire, leaving behind ashes of vocal cords, shatters of words he once swallowed away.

" He's waking up." Someone announced from somewhere, voice so close, it startled Stiles. He tried to move his head, tried to put a hand out, but his body must have been pumped with pain killers, because he felt like a moppet with its cords, cut, folding onto itself, a heap of things that had fallen on top of one another.

" Hey, Stiles, good to have you back, buddy." Stiles could see a blur of a figure that resembled Scott's. It sounded like him too, all caring, and loving, and ever so filled with life. Stiles smiled. Or at least, he thought he did. He thought he should probably try with words again, try clearing his throat, but it felt like something was tearing, every time he tried to get anything out.

" That's probably not a good idea. The doctors said you shouldn't try to strain your vocal chords for at least two weeks."

Stiles' eyes widened, because two weeks, without talking at all? Had they met him? But then Scott was laughing, and he thought he heard his dad too, and Stiles' heart did this thing, like it missed the sound of that, like it ached to hear it again.

" I know, two weeks without you talking is something we haven't experienced since you were probably one year old. So I'm going to milk this for as long as I possibly can." The sheriff had a hand on Stiles' shoulder, as he leaned down, planting a kiss onto his forehead, and simply staying there, just for a little while. Stiles sighed, bringing his hands somewhere around his father, pulling him closer, as close as he could have him.

" I'm glad you're okay, kiddo." The sheriff ruffled his hair, squeezing his shoulder again, before pulling away, with a smile that was a bit dimmed, a bit strained. But Stiles would take it.

" D," He furrowed his eyebrows, ignoring the nails down his throat, and trying to put all the energy he had within him, in getting just that name out, but Scott seemed to understand, nodding towards the couch by the window, on which Derek slept, mouth opened agape, a blanket covering all the places that in Stiles' mind, were still bleeding out.

" We took Kate to the Argents. Peter and Malia went with her, just in case. Isaac had Derek, and I had you. He wasn't healing properly because, you know, torture and wolfsbane and all that. But once mum cleared his body out, he started healing fairly quickly. But he refused to stay in his own room, or even go home, until you're okay." Stiles watched him, how his chest moved slowly, rising and falling, how one of his hands slipped past the blankets, and there were no claws there, no blood, no traces of what Kate had burned into Stiles' head. Stiles thought he'd drink him in, and try to maybe paint this, over all the blood and convulsions and claw marks and gore.

He started to stir, spreading his arms over his head, yawning, before his eyes slowly blinked, looking all tired, and hazy, and so incredibly innocent. Stiles couldn't help but smile, as Derek's eyes widened, rising to his feet, disregarding the blanket, and the shirt that had ridden up his stomach, only a little.

" Stiles, you're awake." Derek breathed out, hands falling onto Stiles, trying to take whatever he could from him, but Stiles put his hands on top of Derek's, shaking his head reassuringly, squeezing Derek's hand, just for the hell of it. Derek deflated with what looked like relief, tension dissolving away, leaving him feeling loose, not quite right.

" I'm sorry. Kate wanted me. This had nothing to do with you. You were just there, and she knew that- that this would hurt me, more than the electric shocks or whatever the fuck she was doing to me back there." Derek moved his arms helplessly around Stiles' figure, although, he knew where all his wounds were. He could map them out, trace them, if Stiles ever forgot, what being close to Derek, had done to him.

" N- no," Stiles tried to whisper out, tried to vocalize his denial of that hurt look taking over Derek's features, the regret leaving him in waves. But dammit, his throat wasn't working at all, and he couldn't, for the life of him, release anything except for staggered puffs of air, that lost their way as he forced them out.

" Shh, don't talk. You don't have to say anything." Derek said, fingers moving through Stiles' hair, without him really meaning for them to. Stiles' eyes moved between him, and Scott, and his father, before he moved his hand, putting it to his ear, and trying to form a phone gesture.

" You want a phone?" Scott questioned, receiving a desperate nod from Stiles. He retrieved his own phone, unlocking it, and handing it to Stiles. " Yours is still in Derek's car I think. We haven't really checked, but here you go."

A few minutes passed, of Stiles clicking away on Scott's phone, and the rest of them watching, patiently awaiting whatever he needed to show them. But then, an electronic, robotic kind of voice filled the air, and Stiles was beaming with pride, the _aha_ painted across his features, without him needing to verbalize it.

" _You're not going to get rid of me talking that easy._ " Stiles wiggled his eyebrows at Scott, who released a groaned, hitting his head against the nearest wall and just leaving it there. The sheriff sighed, shaking his head to himself, although, a chuckle still made its way past him.

" I'm just going to tell Melissa the updates. You have fun with this." He pointed at the phone in Stiles' hand, opening the door, and walking away, leaving the sound of his laughter in his trail.

" I'm going to go with him. Although, werewolf hearing and all. So I'm screwed." Scott patted his friend's head, reminding him that he really was relieved that he was okay, before walking out the door.

" _Aren't you just glad you were the one bitten that night and not me?_ " Stiles quickly typed in, if only to spite his friend.

" Yeah, lucky me." He heard someone yell, outside his door, and he tried to laugh, but it came out breathless, as soundless as all the words he'd previously tried to get out. He then turned to Derek, who was watching him, with an exhausted smile, that was almost nearing tears. Stiles' smile slowly fell away, as he stared at Derek, trying to find the source behind his distress, trying to ease his discomfort.

" _Are you okay?_ " Stiles typed in, tongue wetting his lips, staying there in concentration. Derek was almost stunned by the concern behind Stiles' question, by the thoughtfulness that to anyone else would have been unattainable, with all the ache he must have been in, and the trauma that would certainly scar.

" I can't believe you're asking me this. I, uh, I almost got you killed, Stiles. She tore right through your vocal cords, and I. There was nothing I could do about it."

" _Not your fault. She did that. Not you. And you almost died too. So, with everything that happened, and all the shit that it's bound to bring back, I'm asking you again, are you okay, Derek?_ " A shaky breath fell past Derek, his legs almost buckling beneath him, as he took the sheriff's chair, and brought it closer to Stiles' bedside, taking his hand, if only to ground him.

" I'm just. Really fucking glad you're okay, Stiles. I thought, she'd take you away, too. And. I can't watch it happen again, you know. Can't carry that too, on top of everything else. So. As long as you're okay, the rest of it is just.. white noise." There was something in Derek's eyes, something so sad, so wrong, like it didn't belong there. Stiles thought it was tears. Or maybe, it was what played through his head, what surfaced in his memories, every time something like this happened. He couldn't really tell, but he smiled, putting his hand over his head, and pulling it down, so that it rested on the bed, somewhere near his leg.

" _Right back at you_." Derek held on to the hand nearest to him, closing his eyes, and only needing to breathe in twice, till Stiles' scent eased him into an almost undisturbed slumber.


End file.
